Departure and Arrival
by missdmonsoon
Summary: It's been five years since Miranda watched her second assistant walk away from her and in that time Andy has never been far from the editors mind. Fate gives Miranda a second chance, but is an 8 hour flight long enough to gain her hearts desire?
1. Chapter 1

**PROLOGUE**

Staring longingly out of the window from the backseat of the Mercedes, Miranda let out a wistful sigh. As Paris flew by in streams of light she wondered when the city had lost its spark, its intrigue. It no longer held her captivated in awe the way it once had. Even the Fashion Week itself was uninspiring. She had struggled to watch poorly thought out ensembles draping emaciated frames to the sound of techno. Another let down, a waste of precious time. All this explained a solitary trip to the airport on the final evening of the most important week of her year. She would be damned if she waited until the morning to leave this achingly dying city, and so the latest Emily had booked Miranda a first class ticket back to New York.

Eyes focusing on nothing in particular, the editor did a double take as the car passed a familiar setting. The moonlight created enchanting patterns on the surface of the ever-rippling water as streams of liquid danced down the edges of the fountain. Reluctantly, she turned her gaze back to the interior of the car and down to her left. Though the seat was empty her imagination threw out images of chestnut hair, pleading amber eyes and the sway of elegant hips, as the figure that had slipped behind her defences walked away. Her eyelids snapped together fiercely at the memory.

'_Well you did always enjoy watching the girl walk away. You just never prepared yourself for the possibility that one day she might not come back.'_

Five years later and the memory still stung. So, she did what any home-grown Brit would do and buried her feelings as deeply as she possibly could. The damage, as they say, is done and Miranda was not about to spend her time considering 'what ifs' and 'maybes'. Until, at times such as these, something would remind her of the girl that got away and she was forced to wallow for a short time in her regret. Miranda had been forced to admit to herself how she felt for her former assistant as soon as she realised her reluctance to blacklist her. If it had been anyone else, any other girl to up and leave in the middle of Paris Fashion Week, they wouldn't have found a job in the state that didn't require the phrase, "Would you like fries with that?"

However, the thought of destroying her Andréa only caused her more distress. She loved the girl, and who could blame her. Andréa had been the first person in many years, other than her daughters, to genuinely care about her. When her world had been crumbling around her in the confines of a hotel suite in Paris, the brunette had reached out to her only to be turned away. Yet the following day, when the girl feared for Miranda's position at _Runway_, she had been desperate in her attempts to warn the editor. Neither act went unnoticed. But what good is noticing if you find yourself too afraid to act? Miranda's thoughts were interrupted as her driver announced their arrival at Charles de Gaul.

Her musings remained dormant until she found herself in first class. This would be the second time in five years that she had flown back from Paris Fashion Week without her assistant by her side. She shook her head in an attempt to dislodge that thought and located her seat. Once settled, she distracted herself by taking a brief look around the cabin and at the occupants. The flight was rather empty, she noticed. Only a few people littered the seats around her. Mainly it appeared to be businessmen and possibly a young actress (or was she a singer?) that Miranda decided had an orange glow that far surpassed Donatellas latest shade. Why anyone believed fake tan to be flattering at those levels she'd never understand. She was finishing her perusal when she caught someone staring back at her.

"Hello! My name's Charlie. What's yours?"

Miranda took in the features of the little girl. If her hair hadn't been falling in golden waves, she would have sworn that she was gazing at Andréa Sachs in infant form; from the twinkling, amber eyes to that wide smile. She couldn't help but return a smile of her own.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Charlie. My name is Miranda."

The editor couldn't help but enjoy the interaction with the little girl. It felt like so long since her girls had been that age, they were growing up quickly. Although Miranda had started making more time for them after the divorce from Stephen, the twins were at an age were they needed her less and less. She had missed this stage in their lives. Lost in her memories, Miranda has been oblivious to the figure approaching the front of the cabin.

"Mommy! Come meet my new friend!"

"Princess, didn't Mommy ask you not to speak to anyone while I was away?"

The editor's head snapped up to view the face that had haunted her dreams since she had made this same flight half a decade ago. Her hair was pulled away from her porcelain face, that gave way to rose tinted cheeks, full, pink lips and those heavenly eyes. Still an impressive size four and clothed head to toe in Chanel, her former assistant took her breath away.

A gasp yanked Miranda from her appraisal.

"Miranda?" It was all Andy could do to remain standing at the site of the fashionista.

"Yes Mommy, this is Miranda. Miranda, this is my Mommy."

Azure and amber eyes both settled on the little girl for the introduction before returning to each other, stunned.


	2. Chapter 2

**TAKE-OFF**

"Yes Mommy, this is Miranda. Miranda, this is my Mommy."

Andy had to remind herself to breathe. She was equally stunned by the beauty of the woman and the emotions that slammed into her like a freight train at the sight of her. The brunette didn't know what to feel first; joy, sorrow, love, bitterness or fear. All these things and more simmered at the surface of Andy's being. She had missed the woman immensely, but she wasn't ready to face her yet or the feelings that accompanied her presence. Andy had managed to navigate three years of Paris Fashion Week without once crossing paths with her former boss. Yet here she was, on the very flight that Andy had booked to avoid a clash with the _Runway_ teams' departure.

For the last five years, Andy had played this encounter over and over in her head. Every time it was different. Sometimes, Andy would storm through the corridors of _Runway_ and into Miranda's office and demand the chance to apologise. Occasionally she would find herself outside of the townhouse, pouring her heart out to the woman standing at the door. Other scenarios included meeting at a benefit, at Fashion Week, on the street; but the common factor was that each time, no matter how she pleaded, begged or wept, Miranda would look at her with an air of indifference and cast her aside. However, for all her planning and avoidance it seemed the moment was upon her whether she was ready for it or not. She unconsciously began steeling herself for the heartbreak that would no doubt occur. It wouldn't do to fall apart in front of Miranda or Charlie.

Andy took the seat next to her daughter and in doing so made herself a barrier between Miranda and her child. Whatever punishment Andy was about to receive, she would be damned if an ounce of it would be turned upon her Princess. She hadn't forgotten that the editor had forgone black balling her after Paris. Miranda's revenge may be long overdue, but Charlie wasn't a part of it. Andy was shocked that after attempting a conversation with the older woman that her child wasn't already in tears. Apparently automatic fear of the silver vision wasn't actually present in her DNA. Catching the mirror image whiskey eyes within her own, she spoke loud enough for the older woman to hear her.

"Princess, I think Miranda would rather be left alone." '_She never was one for small talk._' Andy silently added.

With this she turned to the editor to gauge her reaction. She noted the raised eyebrow, as well as the fact that it no longer instilled the same fear it once had. However, Andy would be lying if she said that her pulse didn't quicken at the sight of it. Not that she would necessarily put that down to fear…

"Don't be absurd Andréa. Charlie and I were just getting to know one another. Isn't that right sweetheart?"

A shiver ambled down her spine at the pronunciation of her name. Andy didn't have to look at her daughter to know she was beaming. It appeared as though Miranda had chosen, for reasons only know to her, to show a kindness to her daughter that she had never shown Andy. There was no stopping what was about to unfold now. With a familiar sense of defeat, she gave in. It would seem that Miranda had found yet another weakness in her former assistant. If Andy and Miranda were alike in any way, it was that neither of them enjoyed disappointing their daughters. A fluttering memory of a grey robe and red eyes kissed her senses.

Andy sighed. "Very well. If you must." She turned back to her little girl, leaned in to touch their noses and returned the beaming smile. "Swap seats with me Princess."

They settled into their seats as the plane began to taxi. Eyes squeezed shut, Charlie grabbed her hand as they gathered speed. Andy took the opportunity to shoot the editor a warning glare. She couldn't be sure what Miranda's motivations were but she'd be damned if her daughter would be a pawn in a plot to get under her skin. The silver beauty turned up the corners of her mouth in a smirk, and Andy felt herself, for the first time, longing for the coldness and lack of interest that she had once prayed to banish.

Breaking away from the connection Andy watched the ground fall away beneath them and had the distinct feeling that the next eight hours would be the longest of her life.


	3. Chapter 3

**HOUR 1**

Although she was more than aware that she should have taken offence at Andréa's extreme protectiveness over her daughter where Miranda was concerned – did she expect Miranda to swallow her whole? – it was all the editor could do to control the small smile that rose to her lips. Seeing her Andréa play the protective and loving mother was nothing short of heart warming.

'_The Ice Queens heart is melting. Inform Rupert Murdoch immediately.'_

Though her usual calm had settled, Miranda was still reeling. Andrea was on her plane. Andrea had a daughter. What didn't surprise her in the slightest was that Andrea had chosen a name that didn't reflect, at all, the femininity of her child. It did the small girl the same injustice as when Andréa insisted that she be called 'Andy'. Ridiculous.

Miranda allowed her eyes to roam Andréa secretly. The crystal depths gathered the information they were searching for when they settled upon Andréa's left hand. No wedding ring in sight. So, Andréa had not married the chef, but that did not mean that Charlie wasn't his. Hadn't Nigel briefly mentioned something about their break-up? She simply couldn't piece the story together without more information. Miranda sincerely doubted that Andréa would be forth-coming. Luckily she had made a new, rather knowledgeable, friend.

"So Charlie, how old are you?"

"Four. But I'll be five soon." The girl all but rushed. Miranda realised she must have been desperately waiting for her to continue their conversation. "Mommy said I could have a party with a bouncy castle!"

Andréa poked Charlie playfully in the tummy. "You're birthday is a while off yet Princess and mommy said she'd _think_ about getting a bouncy castle."

Wriggling away from the hands that had begun tickling her, Charlie replied giggling. "But Uncle Nigel said that every Princess needs a castle."

In her peripherals Miranda could see Andréa squirm. So, Nigel had kept in touch with her after Paris. Miranda knew that Nigel wouldn't have kept this from her willingly. Steps were taken to repair the damage she caused to their friendship after taking the James Holt job from him. Nigel had been ready to accept an apology, knowing the weight in such an act. Therefore, the fact that she remained in the dark about their friendship must have been at Andréa's request. What could she do to make the girl see past the damn Paris incident and give her a chance?

"_Let your guard down Priestly."_

The last time Miranda had let Andréa past her defences, she had been left in a crowd of reporters looking lost, and feeling worse. Was she really ready to put herself in a position where the girl could break her heart again? Probably not. But if she didn't try there was no guarantee that this opportunity would come around again.

"Did he really Princess?"

"Yes Mommy," Charlie said innocently, her face showing confusion, "but Emily said that castles are only fit for Queens and that's why he wants one."

Miranda's eyebrows shot up and Andréa began to laugh. It was a laugh that seemed to come from deep within her, stretching her already glorious smile and adding a sparkle to her eyes. The joyful sound caused Charlie to giggle alongside her.

As she sat regarding the two doe eyed beauties, Miranda felt her heart swell. Without thought she suddenly found herself joining in. Her laugh came from the depths of her soul and rattled off any ice clinging to her demeanour. It felt glorious, it felt freeing and, with Andréa so near, it felt right.

The three of them continued to laugh, caught up in the hilarity and spurred on by the others reluctance to stop. When they finally calmed down there were dark tear stains striping the brunettes face and Miranda had honestly never seen her look more beautiful. The warmth in her features remained steady, even as she regarded the editor.

"If you'll excuse me I need to assess the damage." Andrea gestured to her face before rising and making her way to the back of the cabin.

When the older woman finally managed to drag her gaze away from Andréa's retreating form, she noticed that Charlie had also been watching her mother walk away with a look of awe upon her face. She dipped her head, as though considering something, and then raised it to Miranda. She looked positively radiant.

"Mommy never laughs like that! Especially not in Paris."

They both turned to look back at the space where Andréa had just disappeared into the washroom, equally puzzled. Charlie by her mothers sudden happiness and Miranda by the information that Andréa wasn't the same happy-go-lucky spirit that used to breeze around her office. Something was plaguing her. Yes, she would surely have to piece this story together. She wondered just how long it was until Charlie's birthday.

As she stood in the solitude of the washroom, Andy felt surrounded by the sound that had awoken her being from a suffocating darkness. It was a sound that few had the privilege of hearing; Caroline, Cassidy and Miranda's first husband perhaps. Andy felt herself reeling; Miranda had felt relaxed enough to truly laugh in her company. She spotted the difference as soon as the rich tones reached her ears. It wasn't the laugh she used at benefits to appease Irv and his minions. Nor was it the laugh she used to terrify minions of her own. No, this was what one heard when they were blessed to be in the presence of an honestly joyful Miranda Priestly. It seemed that the kindness the editor was extending her daughter applied to her as well. Maybe thoughts of the older woman one day returning her love were nothing more than dreams and fantasies, but friendship seemed more plausible by the minute. For that to happen, Andy realised that she owed Miranda a few explanations. She would let the woman in, slowly.

The urge to touch Miranda was so strong as she returned to her seat that she allowed her hand to gently squeeze an elegant shoulder on her way past. She noticed that it was replaced by one of the editors own instantly, and couldn't help a smile as she took her seat. They allowed a moment to really take each other in, staring into eyes and roaming each others face, before Andy smirked and spoke to Charlie.

"Well Princess, it seems that a bouncy is a must for your birthday party." Her daughter's eyes gleamed with excitement. Andy continued, her smirk turning devilish. "Under one condition: Uncle Nigel has to promise to play on it with you."

Charlie nodded enthusiastically.

A snort turned both Andy and Charlie's attention to Miranda.

'_Trust her to make a snort sound elegant._'

"What I wouldn't pay to see that!"

"Oh mommy!" Charlie was practically bouncing in her seat. "Please, please can Miranda come to my party?"

It was on occasions such as these that Andy cursed the fact that Charlie had inherited her eyes. She suddenly realised why her parents had struggled to deny her anything. They were a curse. That said, she knew she would be equally screwed if she let her gaze settle upon the azure eyes that were pinned on her.

"You'll have to ask Miranda Princess, but she is far more than welcome." She shifted to look at the editor. "Of course Nigel and Emily will be there. I don't know if that's problematic."

If Andy had never met Miranda before in her life, she might believe that the older woman was downright cheerful. She was starting to lose count of the many smiles that she had been the recipient of during this flight.

"No problem at all. I would love to come."

'_Okay Sachs, man up and start explaining. You owe her this at least._'

"Great." Andy threw her a timid smile. "I realise that you weren't aware of my friendship with Nigel or Emily. I have to admit that it was at my request." It had taken a lot to convince Nigel and Emily that it was for the best to keep their friendships a secret, but they had complied, trusting that she had her own reasons. "You have to understand, although I was aware that you hadn't cut my career in journalism off at the knees, I didn't know how you would react-" She took a deep breath. "and I really needed them."

Sometimes, Andy despised the fact that she could read Miranda so well. The older woman was clearly upset by what she had said. "I do understand Andréa. I honestly don't know how I would have handled that information a few years ago." Andy watched her eyes brighten a little.

A small voice piped up. "You know each other already?" Doe eyes darted from her mother to her new friend.

Andy swore she could feel her worlds physically bleeding into one another. No hiding anymore. "Yes Princess, I used to work for Miranda. I was her-"

Andy was interrupted. "She was the best assistant I've ever had."

This shouldn't have made Andy gasp. It shouldn't have made her heart pause in shock before remembering it had a job to do. It shouldn't have made tears spring to her eyes or bring a lump to her throat that she couldn't seem to swallow past. Regardless, Andy had been stunned into silence. She didn't even have the power in her to try and disguise her reaction from Miranda, who she knew was reading her, thoroughly.

"Well," Miranda continued, "if you excuse that god awful jumper."

They smiled at each other, sharing the joke, and Andy read the fondness in the fashionista's features. Friendship was definitely plausible and love was a fantasy, but Andy was more determined than ever to make this fantasy a reality.


	4. Chapter 4

**HOUR 2**

"_She was the best assistant I've ever had."_

Although she was aware that she didn't often voice such things, especially to assistants, or former assistants, Miranda was still shocked at how taken aback Andréa was. Surely she had to have known that she was incredibly good at her job. They had developed such a connection that it was as though they could read each other, talking without words to organise the day. Over looking Emily for Paris had been a rather large indication of her abilities too. How dense did the brunette have to be not to see her worth to Miranda?

Andréa's reaction had hit her so forcefully that Miranda almost missed the air hostess timidly walking towards their seats. She sighed inwardly. The three had been getting along so well and now she would have to assume the Ice Queen persona in front of Charlie. The illusion would be shattered all too soon. She was, therefore, incredibly surprised when the message the hostess was delivering was not for her.

"Miss.S?"

Andréa's demeanour shifted instantly and Miranda could feel the chill. "What is it?"

Miranda could hardly contain her confusion. Where had her Andréa's warm spirit fled to? The brunette had shifted into a persona that Miranda couldn't recognise, other than understanding it was not dissimilar to the person that her employees cowered from on a daily basis. She could do nothing more than look on at the scene unfolding before her.

"I have a Stephanie on the line. She wishes to speak to you. May I patch her through?"

At this, the flash of regret was obvious as it fleeted momentarily across glacial features. Andréa glanced briefly at her little girl. The editor could relate. It was clear that Andréa had been hoping for a few uninterrupted hours with her daughter. The phone call was clearly business related. She nodded and dismissed the woman with a lazy swish of her hand.

"Andréa?"

Their eyes met briefly as the phone attached to Andréa's arm-rest began to ring. Her attention turned to Charlie and she ran a hand through the blonde curls. "Work time Princess." Miranda watched as the girl smiled at her mother and covered her ears with both hands. A chill swept over Miranda for a second time as Andréa answered the phone. She had to lean in to make out what was being said.

"Stephanie, I can only assume there has been a death or disaster because I can see no other reason for you to interrupt my flight with a phone call that I believe is now over two hours late." Pause. "No, no, bore someone else with you excuses. Inform Rachel that the shoot location has been changed to that park with the fountain. Have Demarchelier phone me when I land. Tell Jason, no. For the last time, no I do not want Egyptian, Azure, Royal or Cerulean blue – I want Prussian. Is that clear? Reschedule lunch with Mark for Thursday at a time that is convenient for me. Have the latest samples from Diane in the car when it arrives at the airport. Make sure the driver has our flight number. Return the latest message from Catherine Sachs and make it clear to her that she is not to leave another. And Stephanie…" The word was extended and she waited several beats before continuing. "Inform Human Resources that I will require a new second assistant. Clear out your desk at the end of the day."

The phone was returned to the arm rest with a bit more force than was necessary. Miranda watched as Andréa took a moment to gather herself and let the frost melt. Finally she turned back towards Charlie with a smile and lowered the girl's hands and placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Sorry Princess. All done."

"It would seem that you learned far more from me than you let on Andréa." Miranda wasn't sure if she should be proud or disappointed. Her love had fallen into the same trap as she. A personality split straight down the middle, just like her life, professional and personal. A little sadness crept into her voice at the memory swimming before her; the conversation that led to desertion. "It seems you've turned into me despite your best intentions."

The look on Andréa's face made the older woman's throat clench as she swallowed against the pain that was reflected back at her in hazel eyes. The brunette seemed to need to draw strength for her next words. Her gaze was fixed firmly on her lap as she spoke.

"It was a parting shot, nothing more. That had nothing to do with my leaving." She slowly exhaled.

Although the honesty of the comment shocked her, she refused to let it show. "And so the reason that you left…?"

"Is a conversation best left for another time." The hazel eyes lifted again and looked from Miranda to Charlie. She was right; this was not something that they could discuss with Andréa's daughter sitting between them.

A thought suddenly struck Miranda with a force. There was something odd about Andréa's conversation. '_Demarchelier_'. Why the hell would Patrick be calling Andréa? Had she mentioned something about a photo shoot?

"Andréa, am I to understand from your conversation that you are no longer in the field of journalism?"

The girl was clearly struggling with something. Her thoughts were written across her face, from the knitting of her eyebrows to the tightening of her deliciously rosy lips. Miranda had the distinct feeling that she was about to get a water downed version of a rather interesting story.

'_Bloody_ _hell the girl sighs a lot_.'

"For many reasons, journalism became…" she searched for the right word, "tainted for me. One of which being your reception upon returning from Paris. The tabloids were vicious."

The press had been ghastly, and oh so incredibly inventive with their headlines; '_Frigid Fashionista Freezes Another Mr Priestly_', '_Bitch On Wheels Left In The Dust, Again_'. It surprised Miranda that people actually got paid to write the tripe that surfaced during the divorce. No wonder Andréa was disgusted, but she had to have better reasons than that for abandoning the dream that drove her from _Runway_. From Miranda.

With a bitter chuckle, Andréa resumed. "Still clinging to my precious morals. Anyway," she seemed to mentally shake herself, "with my dream of journalism soured, I needed a new dream, a new career."

"A career that somehow involves a photo-shoot with Demarchelier?"

It was easy to read Andréa's face: 'I have a secret.' The question was, would Miranda be trusted with it?

"Yes, a career that involves a photo-shoot with Demarchelier."

"And fabric samples?"

"And fabric samples."

"And Prussian blue? Excellent choice."

"Of course it is."

Miranda smirked at her confidence. "Care to elaborate Andréa?"

The smirk was returned two fold. "No. That's all."

Miranda was torn; she was both amused and extremely pissed off. When Miranda Priestly lowered her defences, and that was a rarity, she expected the same courtesy to be extended. What had happened that had forced the girl to close so completely? In her irritation, icicles began to form.

"Well, if that topic is closed, care to discuss why you are using your assistants to avoid Catherine Sachs?"

The brunette looked as though she had been slapped. Hurt and confusion danced across her hazel eyes until one emotion settled quite obviously. Andréa Sachs was furious, and she began to form some icicles of her own. The older woman was graced the same tone that had fired Stephanie only minutes ago.

"No Miranda, I have no desire to discuss _that woman_ with you, or anyone else for that matter." She turned towards the window, ignoring the older woman and discretely wiping a tear away with back of her hand.

How had a friendly discussion dissolved into a bitter dismissal so rapidly? Miranda did indeed have a knack for putting her Prada clad foot right in it. She simply wasn't used to being refused. It was a slightly more mature but far more detrimental version of stomping her foot like a little brat. Her heart squeezed painfully. She needed to fix this; things had been going so well until her snide comment. Miranda swallowed her pride.

"Andréa, I'm sorry. It wasn't my place."

She detected a slight nod, her head still facing the window. With a glance at her mother, Charlie leaned into Miranda and indicated Miranda do the same.

"Mommy isn't really annoyed with you." She explained, voice barely a whisper, clearly scared of betraying her mothers confidence. "She doesn't like it when anyone talks about Grandmother. Even me."

Miranda nodded and they separated in silence. She put two and two together and gathered that there must have been a family dispute. If Miranda were a betting woman she would wager it had something to do with her Andréa being an un-wed mother. Her parents were from Cincinnati after all. Whatever the cause, Andréa's mother must have been hideously cruel to her as it wasn't in the brunettes' nature to hold a grudge. Clearly, as she had not long ago appeared to forgive the devil incarnate.

So, what she had so far was this; Andréa had a child, a career outside journalism, an estranged mother (at least), she wasn't married and had been in Paris during Fashion Week. What Miranda had was next to nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

**HOUR 3**

"Andréa, I'm sorry. It wasn't my place."

Andy gave a slight nod at this to show that it was accepted but couldn't bring herself to turn towards the older woman. Damn Stephanie for not phoning her when instructed. It was a call she had to take, in front of the one person she really didn't want to hear it.

She realised that only feeding Miranda some information was going to drive her crazy. Her snapping at Andy was probably warranted, but the topic was not. Not that she really could have known that. Miranda had her assistants dodge calls from her Mother all the time. It wasn't unusual. The difference being, of course, that Miranda found her mother irritating, not sickening. Catherine Sachs had done that to her daughter. Had made it so that every time she was forced to say or think that name, her stomach churned and threatened to empty itself. Oddly, although this was a topic she had avoided even with Nigel, Andy felt herself wanting to tell Miranda everything, every horrid detail, just to hear the woman agree with her. But Charlie was here, and this was not a story that her child could hear.

She remembered everything so clearly. Another tear was hastily swiped away; she wouldn't let the dam break.

_She took tentative steps towards her childhood home. Nausea welled up inside her that had little to do with the morning sickness. She had no idea what to expect. Yes, her parents had raised her in a Christian household and she had been brought up to respect their ideals. However, they were not her ideals, and though she cherished her parents dearly, she simply didn't believe in their religion. A subject they had chosen not to broach._

_But despite their religion, despite their ideals, they had always showered Andy with affection. She had been told that theirs was an unconditional love. So, it was with hope that she opened the door to her parents house and prepared to tell them the latest news in her life._

_They had gathered in the family room, her parents, her sister, Amelia, and herself. She began by apologising, and they had looked worried and tried to comfort her. The air in the room changed immediately at her choked words._

"_I'm pregnant."_

_Then it began. To be more specific, she began. Her mother started stating the obvious. Andy wasn't married, she and Nate had broken up, she didn't have a job and the list went on._

"_Does Nate know?" She had spat, clearly disgusted by the whole situation._

_Just when Andy was sure it was as horrific as it possibly could get, she remembered that it was about to get so much worse._

"_It's not Nates, Ma."_

_The fury and horror on her mothers face had been overwhelming. Catherine really let her have it then. She was a whore, a disgrace on her family and God. Did she have any idea what people at church would say? What her family would say? How could she do such a thing to them? Andy was no daughter of hers. From now on she would not call, she would not visit and she would not associate herself with their family because her mother would not have a filthy slut as a daughter. She could leave, and she could take her bastard child with her._

_Andy had refused to cry. She wouldn't weep at her mothers cutting words or the helpless looks in her father and sisters eyes as they simply looked on, knowing that Catherine had made a decision for the whole family and not just herself. She walked out of the house before she was forced. She would keep that much dignity._

Andy had been banned from her sister's funeral a year later. Suicide.

The calls had started when Charlie was three. Messages were left; begging for forgiveness, for understanding and for another chance. She hadn't returned a single one personally. Catherine might want her daughter back, but as far as Andy was concerned, she didn't have a mother.

Miranda couldn't know of the sorrow that festered under Andy's surface, directly linked to her mother, and so she wouldn't be blamed. Catherine Sachs wouldn't ruin anything else in her life. Andy finally managed, with more than a little trepidation, to face the woman she loved. Deep blue eyes pooled with concern, and she felt herself relax.

"It's okay. You weren't to know it was a sore topic." She breathed deeply, slowing her heart rate and lowering her walls. "My mother and I had a falling out a few years ago."

She lowered her eyes to Charlie and raised them again. A small nod from Miranda let her know she understood. Andy had never seen such kindness on Miranda's face when she wasn't in the presence of the twins. It softened her features and, if possible, made her look more ravishing to Andy than ever before. She let the tension loose from her body. She could trust Miranda; she was sure of it. She would tell her everything about her that Miranda cared to know, but slowly. For now she needed a break.

"Enough about me though. How are the girls?" Luckily, the older woman detected that Andy needed a rest from this topic of conversation. It helped her to watch Miranda light up when she thought about the twins.

"They're…" She thought for a second. "Teenagers." The editor let out a soft chuckle. "Every day is more dramatic than the last. They're becoming more individual, developing themselves outside of the 'twin thing'. They're fantastic." The smile that stretched her loves face let loose a million butterflies in her stomach.

Miranda turned to Charlie and lightly tapped her on the nose. "They are ten years older than you sweetheart, but sometimes when I look at them I'm sure they are still as little as you are. My babies."

Andy never imagined that watching the two interact would touch her heart this way. She let herself get lost in the moment for the briefest time and then returned to the conversation.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did they handle the divorce?" She genuinely cared and she hoped her expression conveyed that to Miranda.

Clearly Miranda was convinced as she continued without hesitation. "They took it very well. Actually, they informed me that they were glad to see the back of him. They worded it in a more colourful fashion, but you get the gist."

It was Andy's turn to chuckle. "Well I'm glad that they're happy. We got on quite well with each other in the end." She smiled fondly at the memories of the two redheads.

"In the end?" Miranda looked genuinely puzzled. Bless her, she really didn't know.

"Miranda, I don't have a death wish. Do you honestly think I would just decide to wander upstairs in your home without a little convincing?" The surprised features were almost sweet. "Luckily the Harry Potter manuscript helped them warm to me quite considerably. I printed out a copy for myself too and they waited for me to deliver the Book so we could discuss it." Her expression turned wistful. "I miss them a lot."

Miranda looked as though she had just had an epiphany. "They asked where you had gone. After Paris."

Andy nodded. She had called the girls eventually to explain and apologise. It was a difficult conversation; she had genuinely grown to love the girls. They had asked her to make one promise to them, that she would meet them to buy the next Harry Potter book. It was the last time she had seen the girls and there was a lot of tears and hugging. Had her heart not already been smashed into countless pieces during her departure from Paris, Andy was sure it would have broken that day. She had lost so much more than a job when she had chosen to walk away from Miranda, but she honestly thought she was saving herself more pain. Andy so wanted to explain herself to the goddess before her, but all she could do was hold her gaze and repeat herself.

"I miss them a lot."


	6. Chapter 6

**HOUR 4**

This confession was as heartbreaking as it was warming. She had not been the only Priestly to suffer the loss of Andréa. Her girls had warmed to her in a way they had never warmed to another assistant. It was just another loss for them; their father, Stephen and Andréa. However, if Caroline and Cassidy already cared for Andréa it may not be so difficult to convince them to that having Andréa in their lives would be a good thing. Now all she had to do was convince Andréa of that very same fact. However, first Miranda had to continue her ever so subtle detective work. She found herself becoming quickly bored with this interrogation, Andréa was making her work for every piece of information she got, but she needed to know.

"So was the timing merely coincidence or were you here to enjoy Fashion Week?"

Andréa seemed to hesitate and Charlie took the moment of silence to answer for her. "Mommy took me to see the pretty dresses. This is the third time I've been allowed to come." Her smile was so wide that Miranda could make out the obvious gap of a missing tooth that she hadn't seen before. Miranda eyed Andréa. She was staring straight ahead, wringing her hands.

"That's very impressive sweetheart. Do you have a favourite designer?"

'_Did Andréa just flinch?_'

"Well Valentino was in….insp…" Frustrated, she faced her mother. "Mommy, what did you say about Valentino?"

Even through her nerves Andréa couldn't help but smile affectionately at her daughter. "Inspired, Princess."

"That's right, inspired." Charlie turned back to Miranda. "I didn't like Mr Holts dresses, but I didn't tell him. I don't think you should make bows that big."

The girl was as intelligent as her mother. That was obvious. It was also clear that she had a better eye for fashion than Andréa did, which was more than a little amusing.

"But my favourite was Charlotte." Charlie concluded.

By this point Andréa's knuckles were white from gripping onto both arm rests. She had, however, managed to school her features into something that resembled calm.

"You've done well to teach Charlie what little you remember from _Runway_ Andréa, she clearly has an eye." The grip tightened. "That was my favourite too sweetheart. It was a breath of fresh air in an otherwise stale and disappointing week."

Quite clearly against her own will, Andréa blurted out, "Really?"

"Andréa, when have you known me to skirt around the issue when talking about fashion? Forgive the pun."

The girl was clearly flustered. Her gorgeous cheeks were now flushing deep crimson and she seemed to be struggling for breath. She was mumbling something unidentifiable, more to herself than those around her.

"However," Miranda continued, "It matters very little how highly I praise this particular designer as they appear totally elusive."

This had been her ultimate frustration of the previous year. Charlotte had become an international name in the fashion industry and the expansion of the company into shoes and hand-bags had been a success of massive proportions. Magazines all over the world were growing desperate to feature Charlotte but every enquiry into the company was stone walled. The designer remained extremely secretive and refused to come out into public domain. Therefore, the only place the designs could be seen in advance was on the runway. Miranda had hired a team of people, much to Irv's displeasure, to find out anything and everything they could about the label. So far, their findings were minimal.

"Despite my best efforts I can't even get a name. The most my team have unearthed is the initials A.E.S, and that was due to nothing more than a private investigator stumbling across some paper work." She let out a frustrated sigh. "What I wouldn't give for a spread in _Runway_."

Andréa was gaping at her. What had she said that would warrant such a look? "You are that desperate to locate a designer?" She looked incredulous. "You hired a private detective?"

"Andréa, you are aware of the lengths I will go for the magazine. I ensure that _Runway_ is the best by making certain that it only features the best. Surely then it makes sense that when I see great talent I should seek it out for the purposes of the magazine. Why would my desperation to locate a designer shock you of all people?"

Andréa's jaw looked as though it had become permanently unhinged and, suddenly, Miranda felt like something weighty smacked her right between the eyes. Something so obvious she might dare to call herself unintelligent. No, not dare, she was an idiot.

'_The photo-shoot…. A phone call from Demarchelier… Demanding fabric samples… Prussian… She's flying home from Paris Fashion Week with Charlie… Charlie… Charlie!_'

She swallowed and looked over at Andréa as the colour drained from her face. Eyes never leaving the brunette she posed her question to the little girl, who was oblivious to this revelation.

"Charlie, what is your full name?"

"Charlotte Amelia Sachs." The little girl recited proudly.

"And yours Andréa?"

Her former assistant looked extremely ill. She attempted a small smile and though clearly nervous, held Miranda's stare. "Andrea Elizabeth Sachs."

"A.E.S?"

The brunette nodded, reluctantly. Miranda let out a long breath and broke eye contact. Andréa was a designer, and a damn good one at that. Why had she left journalism for this? For something so firmly set in Miranda's world, a world she had deserted and yet, she had breezed back in, under the radar. Before it had been unfair to expect Andréa to open up to her, to explain everything, but this was Miranda's domain and she had been kept in the dark.

"Andréa," she caught the amber eyes within her own once more. "I think you owe me an explanation."


	7. Chapter 7

**HOUR 5**

Andy stared in a glazed fashion at a point just over Miranda's shoulder as she filtered through her memories of the last five years. There was so much to explain and she had to do it in such a way that Miranda understood. She had to soften the blow. Focusing back on the editors pristine features, she began.

"Where to start…" She wondered aloud.

"Why don't you start from the moment you landed in New York five years ago?" Andy noted the impatience in her voice and decided it was safest not to argue.

"Ok… but there are some things…" Andy looked at Charlie. Her daughter was intrigued in the conversation to say the least. Looking over her shoulder, Andy caught the hostess's attention and waved her over. "Princess, would you like to go visit the pilot in the cockpit?"

Charlie looked hard at her mother, and then turned her attention to Miranda. Looking up at the hostess she replied, "Yes please."

"Don't leave her for a second, do you understand me?" Andy aimed at the hostess, who appeared to have momentarily lost the ability to speak. The brunette levelled a glare at the mute female. "I do not enjoy repeating myself."

"Of course Miss."

Charlie threw her mother a smile before she was lead to the cockpit, hand in hand with an extremely scared woman.

Andy turned back to Miranda who seemed to have been too amused by the past minute to remain too annoyed with Andy. "Please continue Andréa."

"When I landed, even before I saw the tabloids attack you during the divorce, I was sure that writing was no longer an option for me. That, I won't go into detail about and I'd appreciate it if you didn't ask me to." She paused to gauge Miranda's reaction to the comment. A nod encouraged her to continue. "When I returned to New York Nate had left, which left me with the rent check and so I phoned around some of the contacts I made at Elias-Clarke and got a job at a boutique we used for one of the Chanel shoots. While I was there I spent all day everyday around clothes with little to fill my time and so I took to sketching, but it wasn't anything serious." Andy allowed a warm smile to grace her lips. "Then I found out I was pregnant with Charlie and, as I'm sure you guessed, my mother disowned me, denied my existence to the best of her abilities." The fury in the older woman's sapphire eyes warmed Andy and she suddenly felt comfortable telling her the story of her past. "Luckily for me, I had Nigel and Emily. They were there for me throughout the whole pregnancy. Doctors appointments, baby-proofing the apartment and even when there were complications in the last trimester. I was confined to bed for almost a month and I kept myself occupied with sketching, mainly clothes; dresses, shirts, skirts, shoes. A month of furious sketching and she was with us. My little Princess, after some drama in the delivery room, graced us with her presence."

Andy allowed herself a moment to become wistful. She could remember vividly the first time she held Charlie in her arms; Nigel and Emily at her bedside, utterly frazzled and tired after an intense thirty-nine hours. Her face reflected back up at her, the tell tale blond hair that linked her to her father not yet grown in. Andy looked up to find Miranda blinking away the wetness that had gathered in her eyes.

"So there I was with a baby, no partner and a job that barely covered my expenses before diapers. But Nigel, being Nigel, had taken it upon himself to show some of my sketches to people in the business. You would know better than I the correct channels for such things. Anyway, when I was made an offer by an investor to help me set up my own company, I wasn't in a position to say no." She was usually so good at reading Miranda, but her expression gave nothing away, so Andy decided to wrap up the story and allow Miranda to comment. "From there, it took off rather quickly, maybe too quickly. Anyway, it was no time before I was offered a spot in Paris Fashion Week and I've never looked back. I love what I'm doing more than I ever expected to. It felt really good to be back in that world, your world. And that pretty much takes us to meeting you on a plane and explaining the last five years."

Miranda looked deep into Andy's eyes puzzled, at least Andy knew how to read that expression. "I think you've left something out Andréa." She stood and took Charlie's seat next to Andy. "What was the need for all the secrecy? Why no public appearances? Why won't you feature your designs in any magazines?"

Andy so wished that Miranda could simply work some of the details out for herself to save her the task of having to explain every minute detail. It just forced her to leave out as much information as she released.

"Miranda, no one deserts you. I hate that I have to say it that way, but that's what I did. It was unprofessional, uncaring and, in the end, uncalled for, but I did it. When, in recorded history, has Miranda Priestly ever let someone off the hook?"

The hurt was evident and it made Andy want to reach out and touch the woman more than ever before. "I thought you knew me better than that Andréa. You of all people should have known…"

"Miranda, I may have known you better than most, but I still knew so little about you. Taking the divorce and the fact that you just had to save your job into consideration, I thought you might have been a little raw when I up and left. Maybe I was wrong."

She could see on Miranda's face that she wasn't wrong, Miranda had been hurt.

"I think that covers the secrecy, which in turn explains why there was no public appearance. As for featuring in magazines, well, my loyalty still lies with _Runway_." This appeared to surprise the older woman. "Once I knew my designs were getting attention, I knew that if I couldn't feature them in _Runway_, then I wouldn't feature them at all. I suppose now that everything is out in the open, I could properly apologise with a spread in the magazine. That is, if you are interested, of course." She smirked at the woman who was now sitting close enough that Andy could feel the warmth radiating from her body.

Miranda had cheered up considerably. "That does seem like a rather fitting apology. Thank you for telling me all this Andréa." She reached over and placed her hand on top of Andy's. "I understand there is a lot that you are holding back, but I want to know whatever you want to tell me."

Andy could concentrate on nothing more than Miranda's hand on hers. Her skin was incredibly soft, and her fingers so delicate. Her heart was racing, and she was sure that the editor would feel the blood pulsing around her hand. With confidence she didn't know she had, she twisted her hand so that it touched Miranda's palm to palm and intertwined their fingers. This drew out a smile from the older woman, who squeezed her hand gently.

She began studying Miranda's face. Taking in the porcelain skin, tinted lips that looked fuller up close than it would appear at first glance, her cheekbones that were steadily being painted with a natural glow of pink and of course her eyes. Andy could lose herself in Miranda's eyes, and she used to frequently. Of course, this pass time was being made much easier now that Andy didn't have to hide her actions from Miranda. The pools of azure twinkled and shimmered in the light, forcing Andy to gaze deeply and pick out the lapis flecks that danced within. The site took the brunettes breath away.

Suddenly, Andy became aware that in the seconds or minutes that had passed as she basked in Miranda's beauty, they had grown closer to each other. Their lips were an inch apart, their breath mingling. She couldn't be sure who had leaned forward first or when it had happened exactly but those thoughts were made redundant by the thundering of her heart, forcing her ears to hear no more than a steady thump. Glancing briefly down at Miranda's elegant throat, she saw the subtle sign of a quickening pulse and knew that she wasn't alone her feelings.

"Andréa..."

Refusing to think for a second longer, Andy closed the small distance and let her lips slowly brush Miranda's. A sigh from the older woman encouraged Andy to add a little more force to the kiss. As she lost herself in the silken texture fluttering against her mouth, she let her hand rise unhurried up the length of Miranda's arm. A flicker of tongue against her upper lip dragged a soft moan from Andy, giving Miranda the gap she needed to let her tongue roam into Andy's mouth. The brunette reciprocated, grazing the tip of her tongue lightly against the editors. A spark of desire jolted in Andy's mouth and spread to the rest of her body, settling in between her legs, causing her to shift slightly in her chair. She felt Miranda smirk against her lips and couldn't help but smile in reply.

"Mommy!"

Andy snapped away from Miranda with a sharp gasp. Looking around her she realised that Charlie was making her way to their seats, out of sight. Knowing that her daughter hadn't caught her making out with her new friend, Andy relaxed. She didn't miss the amused look on Miranda's face at her reaction and found herself wondering if the editor would react in the same way if it was Caroline or Cassidy walking towards them.

Charlie reached them. "Princess, did you enjoy yourself?"

"Charlie's headed bobbed up and down with enthusiasm. "Yeah, Roy was really nice to me. He even let me press some of the buttons."

'_Roy?_'

"Miranda, you didn't?" Andy asked, disbelieving.

The older woman chuckled gently. "Coincidence, I swear."

Charlie ignored her stolen seat and scrambled onto her mothers lap. "Did you have fun while I was away Mommy?"

Andy found the eyes that made her heart stop and restart in the most endearing way. She allowed herself an honest smile. "I did Princess, I really did."


	8. Chapter 8

**HOUR 6**

Miranda held the gaze, reliving the memory of Andréa's lips on hers. The kiss had been so tender and yet filled with so much passion and longing. It was the most loving kiss that she had ever experienced and, although she was scared, she couldn't regret the decision to let the young woman in. All the problems were fading away; how could one consider their ages, gender, the press or anything for that matter when her lips still tingled from the contact of seconds ago. Miranda was suddenly desperate for the moment that she and Andréa were no longer on a plane and they could be alone together. It was almost embarrassing how aroused she had become from one kiss; but it wasn't just any kiss and it wasn't from just anyone.

The editor looked at the object of her affections. Chestnut hair spilled down to cover sleek shoulders as she leant over her little girl. Watching the scene before her, Miranda couldn't help but picture the two females in the town house, two brunette beauties interacting with her cherished red-heads. She could imagine her twins taking Charlotte under their wings, a little sister to dote upon. Visions of days out at the park, family dinners and birthdays all swam before her and made Miranda feel warmer than she could remember. An honest to God family unit with the woman that she loved; it seemed perfect.

Miranda considered the information that had just been trusted to her. Her love had been pregnant and alone, struggling for money. She thought kindly upon the friend that they shared; Nigel had helped her Andréa, had helped her form a career and in doing so had brought them back together. And what a career it was.

Andréa was a designer.

From what Miranda had witnessed Andréa was talented, very talented. A shoot would do wonders for _Runway_. The brunette's loyalty to the magazine had come as quite a shock to the editor. However, if she was correct in her assumption from the kiss they had shared, Andréa shared Miranda's feelings, and Andréa knew better than anyone what _Runway_ meant to Miranda.

Miranda noticed that her two companions were staring at her, amused. She couldn't help but smirk in reply.

"What?"

"Where did you go? You looked…wistful."

Miranda allowed her eyes to obviously travel between the two.

"I was just thinking how beautiful the two of you look together" Both females beamed at her. "I can't wait to get a picture of the two of you in the _Runway _feature alongside the interview. You can describe how you named the line after Charlotte, that you completed you first sketches during your pregnancy and… Andréa?"

With every word that had departed from Miranda's mouth, the brunette's smile had faltered until it was eradicated completely. A lost look was clouding the young woman's face and she couldn't meet Miranda's gaze. Her eye's had once again taken on that glazed expression, letting the editor know that Andréa was once again lost in memories of her past and trying to talk to Miranda without telling her the whole truth. This withholding was beginning to worry the Fashionista greatly.

"Miranda, I'll happily allow you to feature my designs in _Runway_ but there won't be an interview. I still don't intend to put Charlie or myself in the public eye. I can't."

Miranda stopped herself from recoiling at the words. Was Andréa serious? Had she not considered that to be in a relationship with Miranda Priestly was to be in the public eye? Having been her assistant, Andréa was well aware of just how often Miranda appeared on page six. Had she not said herself that she had followed the sheer amount of coverage of her divorce from Stephen? And yet she was saying that she refused to make herself available to the public; that she would not allow their identities to be known. Didn't Andréa want to be with her?

Perhaps she had read too much into a single kiss. Perhaps she had imagined the longing, passion and desire that been silently understood in the sweet meeting of their lips. Perhaps she had been so desperate for Andréa's touch, for her mouth, that she had been mistaken in thinking that the feelings within the contact had mirrored her own. But Andréa had kissed her. Miranda may have made it clear that she was willing; but _Andréa_ kissed _her_. Surely that meant something.

She looked over at the woman she knew she loved. Andréa was gently stroking Charlotte's hair as she curled up further in her mother's embrace. Why could the young woman possibly still need to hide behind her initials now that Miranda was aware of her identity? Who or what else was keeping this woman from showing herself to the world.

Miranda tried desperately to keep her voice steady. "Andréa, you said yourself, I was the reason for your secrecy. Now that I know, what reason do you have to hold back?"

The brunette made no move to look at Miranda. Her hand still made steady strokes through blonde hair. A sad smile graced her face and she lightly shook her head. The older woman noticed tears pooling in the amber eyes and realised that Andréa couldn't speak but not through lack of wanting to. Patiently, Miranda allowed her to take several deep calming breaths.

"Hold on."

Gathering her little girl up in her arms, Andréa walked over to Miranda's vacant chair and lay her now sleeping daughter gently down. Andréa took several agonizingly slow moments to cover Charlotte with a blanket and whisper sweetly to her until she was sure she was resting comfortably. Even through her impatience Miranda couldn't help but note how adorable the scene before her was.

Having used the time to steady herself, the brunette was able to meet the editor's eyes as she returned to her seat. They stayed locked in each others gazes until her Andréa finally began to speak.

"Since the moment Charlotte was born she was mine; mine to protect, mine to care for, mine to love. She is _my_ daughter, _my_ Princess."

"Andréa, I understand you wanting to protect Charlotte, I do. I hate how the press affected my girls; you of all people should know that."

Miranda reached out for Andréa's hand, desperate to calm the fierceness in her features. As it receded, Miranda was more disturbed by its replacement. Andréa was scared as hell.

"No Miranda, you don't understand. Charlotte is mine and only mine because her father isn't involved in her life, in either of our lives, and hasn't been for a long time."

"I don't-"

"Miranda, stop!" The young woman was a tightened coil of nerves and fright. "I'll explain this to you but I need you to just let me get it all out, okay?"

Miranda nodded mutely and waited for her explanation.

"Charlotte doesn't have contact with her father because he doesn't know about her. I had no desire to involve him in my baby's life, he would only taint it, but if he were to find out about her, he might request access and he'd be well within his rights to."

As if struggling to continue, she looked away, turning back only when she felt Miranda's hand squeezing her own. Miranda wasn't surprised to see the tears coating Andréa's face; she knew that, like her, Andréa's daughter was the chink in her armour.

"I can't risk him finding out Miranda. She's my baby girl."

Content to let the silence settle, Miranda raised her free hand to Andréa's face and began wiping away the tears before cupping her cheek.

Her mind was racing. Had the chef gotten Andréa pregnant before they parted ways and she had chosen not to tell him? Why was she so desperate to keep the father away? She realised that she could only partly empathize with Andréa never having had the twins solely to herself, their father had always been involved. But if Andréa was insistent that this man should be kept away from her daughter then Miranda would make sure that he didn't get within a mile of the golden haired girl. However, she could only be of help if she knew who the father was.

"You want to know who he is." It wasn't a question. Andréa still knew how to anticipate Miranda's every thought, every need.

Again, Miranda nodded mutely as the young woman sighed.

"You're not going to like it."


	9. Chapter 9

**HOUR 7**

"You're not going to like it."

Andy knew that the identity of Charlie's father would upset Miranda, and she didn't blame her. But whatever hurt or betrayal or anger Miranda would feel at the revelation would be misplaced. If the older woman gave her a chance to explain she might not lose this sense of comfort and warmth that had settled within her ever since the moment she had made contact with those heavenly lips. Those lips that were slowly pursing. Miranda was preparing for disaster. Andy drew a deep breath and readied herself.

"It's Christian. Christian Thompson."

As if burned, Miranda snatched her hand from within Andy's light grasp. Brick by brick the brunette watched as the editor rebuilt her protective fortress around her. The warmth fled from her face and the tenderness within those enchanting pools of azure blue vanished and became hard and cold. It was as though the Miranda she had been travelling with for the last six hours had never existed, as though what had transpired between them had never happened, and Andy refused to accept that reality.

"Don't you _dare_." The sheer fury in her voice forced Miranda to face her. "Don't you dare ask me to open up to you, to explain myself to you and then throw up your walls."

She could see in the older woman's eyes that she knew Andy was right. Of all the people who would understand how it difficult it was to become vulnerable when it was so against your nature, it would be the fashion maven. The thaw was mild, but visible.

"What did you expect Andréa?"

It was upsetting that Miranda would recoil from her in this way, Andy couldn't deny that, but she understood the reasoning behind it. To those who only ever acknowledged the icon it would appear as though the power-play in Paris had no affect on the 'Ice Queen', some may even have believed that she relished it. They would be right of course, Miranda did relish the fact that she had outmanoeuvred Irv Ravitz, but it stung that they had attempted to oust her in the first place. Second to her girls, _Runway_ means everything to Miranda, and so the thought that Andy had slept with Christian after his part in endeavouring to take her life's work away from her would be painful, to say the least. That pain was slowly seeping into Miranda's eyes and it was all Andy could do not to reach out to her. She just needed the opportunity to explain.

"How could you? After what he-"

"Before."

This gave Miranda pause.

"Before I knew of his part in Irv's little plan, before I even knew there was a plan. I never would have even thought of… If I had known, I never would have done what I did. Please just let me explain."

Miranda nodded slowly. Andy mirrored her, took a deep breath, and began. "I met Christian at James Holt's party, the night I picked up the sketches for his line, and it was…" She searched for the best way to explain, she needed to make Miranda understand the situation in its entirety. "It was as if I had found something stable in the midst of a storm. Despite a new wardrobe I was still invisible to most at _Runway_, and those who could see me were less than pleasant; with perhaps the exception of Nigel, on a good day. However, despite all this I was becoming immersed in your world and, as a result, drifting further from Nate and my friends. I just didn't fit. But then there he was; charming, endearing and a writer to boot. He looked at me in a way that Nate hadn't for some time, as though I was interesting, intriguing. That night, for only a short while, I got to be Andy without someone looking disappointed or irritated. It was refreshing and I needed it."

Andy glanced up at Miranda as she took a break and was relieved to find that the older woman seemed to be listening without casting judgement, and for the time being that hurt look had vanished from her eyes.

"I didn't think of him again until I had to get two copies of the Harry Potter book for the twins," Andy risked smirking slightly at Miranda, "I asked him for help, and he came through. I was grateful; he had allowed me to keep my job, to stay in your world a little longer, to stay with you. Christian helped me to succeed, while Nate was upset that I hadn't failed. He was growing weary of the hours I worked and of how the job was changing my priorities."

"I think I may have lived this story once or twice before, excluding Mr Thompson of course."

"Of course." Talking was good, Andy noted. If Miranda was talking to her then some of her anger had subsided; but it was obvious that she was still guarded. "But in my version, the guy leaves before the girl jets off to Paris."

Andy relived the memory; the art gallery, the street, the fight. It took all of her will power not to grin like an idiot when she felt Miranda's hand return to hers to bring her back from the depths of her own mind. They looked at each other then; Miranda assessing and Andy trying to draw strength. She felt the sadness cloud her face as she moved on to the next memory.

"The night that I found you in your hotel room, after Stephen had told you he wanted a divorce, I had dinner plans with Christian, as a thank you for his help. Well, at least that was the pretence." Andy wanted to make sure that Miranda could she the honesty in her eyes. "It was so difficult in that hotel room, to see you broken. All I wanted to do was hold you and comfort you, but the most I had to offer you was a seamless schedule. I arrived at dinner with a heavy heart, thoughts of you and my break-up with Nate, and with the help of a particularly expensive Pinot, one thing led to another."

Andy didn't know that she could continue while looking into Miranda's eyes. Her eyes were dissecting Andy, looking for a flaw in every word. She didn't even realise she had been crying until she felt a thumb brush her face. Miranda left her hand on Andy's cheek, holding her gaze steady. "I found a mock-up of _Runway_ in his hotel room the next morning and he explained what Irv was trying to do. I left, making it clear that I had chosen to be by your side and then I tried to warn you and well… you know the rest."

Miranda pushed her hand back from Andy's cheek and threaded it through her hair. The editor's fingers rested on the back of Andy's neck and pulled her head forward until their foreheads rested against one another.

"You have to understand that if I had known, had any idea of what he was trying to pull…"

Andy drew a ragged breath through her tears. She was enveloped by Miranda's scent and suddenly felt desperate. She had only just got Miranda back, she couldn't lose her. Living without the knowledge of something more was one thing; but now, after being so close, after touching flawless skin and kissing perfect lips, after hearing that soft voice compliment her in the tenderest of tones, how could she go back?

"I can't regret it Miranda. Without that night I wouldn't have Charlotte, I wouldn't have my baby. But at that time, during that week, if I had known they were trying to hurt you I wouldn't have gone near him, I swear. You have to b-"

Her words were halted by the sudden press of lips. This kiss was fiercer than the last. It spoke of desperation and of need. It seemed that Miranda was not ready to lose Andy either. Andy wasted no time in responding; teasing Miranda's lips with her tongue and following with a soft bite that granted access to her mouth and allowed their tongues to meet in a hot battle, neither willing to be submissive as they possessed the other. Miranda's hand tightened on the back of Andy's neck, pulling her impossibly closer. Andy's hands had found either side of Miranda's face, her thumbs softly grazing her cheek bones causing the editor to hum her contentment.

The kiss slowed and Andy broke away to breathe. She was pleased to notice the flush covering Miranda's chest before lowering her face to nuzzle into her neck. Relaxing as she felt a hand gliding through her hair, the brunette sighed happily before bestowing many gentle kisses on the soft skin next to her lips. It was a comfortable silence that neither wished to interrupt.

However, after a few pleasant minutes, it seemed as though Miranda simply couldn't hold back her thoughts any longer.

"You left publishing to avoid him?"

"That had a lot to do with it, yes."

"And he is completely unaware of Charlotte's existence?"

"I've done my best to keep it that way."

"You realise that if we were to explore this, us, any further, that the press may become involved."

Andy couldn't reply. The obvious answer was yes. Yes, she understood that if they chose to be together they couldn't hide from page six for long. She didn't want to hide what she felt for the other woman, but could she risk exposing Charlie to the press, alerting Christian to her presence?

"Andréa, there is no way for Christian to know that Charlotte is his. We can keep her out of the press for as long as possible, but when the time comes that she is discovered it would only take something as simple as lying about her age to avoid his interference. We'd simply imply that she was a year younger than she is and the question of his paternity would be null and void."

Andy lifted her head and stared at the woman as though she had just discovered gravity. Could it really be so simple? Tell the world that Charlie was three going on four and the threat of Christian Thompson would vanish. It seemed ridiculously easy. With that aside for the moment it seemed necessary to address the other issue on the table.

"So, you're willing to try this? Out in the open; you, me, three kids and a dog?"

The tenderness and warmth radiating from Miranda's face was a look that Andy prayed she would never tire of. Her hand found its way back into her hair and a light kiss was placed upon her lips.

"My darling Andréa, I am willing to do whatever it takes to keep you by my side. You, me, three kids and a dog."


	10. Chapter 10

**Hour 8  
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"My darling Andréa, I am willing to do whatever it takes to keep you by my side. You, me, three kids and a dog."

She knew with her whole self that she meant every word. She couldn't live without this, not now that she knew how it felt to be this close to Andréa. This was going to be her future; Andréa, Charlotte and the twins. She could hardly believe that in the time it took to cross an ocean her world had been forever changed, and for the better.

Their faces were still hovering close, as if scared to move too far away from each other and break this new bond. Andréa leaned forward, situating herself cheek to cheek with the editor. The warmth of her skin drove Miranda to distraction and she was catapulted forward into images of her young love beneath her, surrounded by white sheets; writhing and arching, pressing delicate skin together in a heated meeting. Hot breath against her ear brought her back to the present as Andréa whispered.

"This feels like a dream."

Andréa pulled back and Miranda found herself drowning in amber eyes filled with fear. Studying Andréa's face, those gorgeous features that had only existed in her mind for five impossibly long years, she saw the strength fading and Andréa letting her see her vulnerability. The brunette was terrified and it reassured Miranda that, like her, Andréa was planning on this being her forever.

"My beautiful Andréa, I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"If I had known that this could be my life, I never would have left you."

Miranda was left stunned as Andréa brought her head to the editor's shoulder and returned to nuzzling her neck.

"Andréa…"

"It was just too hard Miranda," Andréa mumbled softly into her neck, "to be so close to you, to feel how I felt about you and know that you would never see me as anything more than your assistant. I wasn't strong enough."

The weight of those words brought Miranda to lower her head to rest on chocolate tresses. She sighed as regret filled her. If only she had discovered her feelings sooner, if only Andréa had told her how she felt, if only she hadn't left; maybe things might have been different, they might not have lost so much time. However, Miranda knew herself well enough to be sure that if she hadn't lost Andréa so abruptly, she may never have admitted how she felt.

"Perhaps, it was for the best. If I were philosophical in the slightest I might suggest that our paths had to separate when they did because we weren't ready. Losing you taught me I can't live without you."

A slow, warm kiss to her collar bone sent a pleasant tingle across Miranda's chest.

"Miranda I…I won't walk away again."

"Promise?"

Full lips danced across her ear as Andréa whispered her answer.

"I promise, my love, to never again willingly leave your side. My heart couldn't bear it."

Those addictive lips parted to allow nibbling teeth to take their place as nimble fingers began dancing patterns across her abdomen. The editor melted as a wave of heat swept through her body. She had known it would be like this with Andréa; tender and passionate, tinted with a sense of desperation.

"Andréa."

It was a reverent whisper, almost too soft to be heard, but it was acknowledged by a sensual and breathy laugh and teasing fingers drifting dangerously close to Miranda's chest.

"Darling," Miranda purred, "as much as it pains me, might I suggest continuing this when we are better located?"

Both fingers and teeth stilled. Andréa situated herself in Miranda's eye line whilst forming a pout.

"Must you be so sensible?" Letting her eyes drift from Miranda to her sleeping daughter, Andréa sighed and continued in a less petulant manner. "You're right, of course."

"Of course."

Andréa smirked at the smug woman before returning her gaze to Charlotte.

"She likes you."

"So it would seem." Her eyes followed to look at the small blonde who had already taken up residence in her heart. "And the feeling is entirely mutual."

The girl in question began to stir from her sleep and blearily peered at the two women. Andréa moved to collect Charlotte and bring her back to her earlier position on her knee just as the captain announced their descent. Miranda turned her body into Andréa's, keeping close as they both focused their attention on the slowly waking girl.

"Did you sleep well Princess?"

Miranda warmed as she watched Charlotte nod whilst trying to suppress another yawn.

"I was dreaming about the park. Can we go soon Mommy?"

"Of course, baby."

Unable to help herself Miranda reached over to the little girl, with the hand that wasn't currently entwining its fingers with Andréa's, and squeezed her knee lightly.

"What would you think about meeting me and my girls at the park this week; perhaps for a picnic?"

Charlotte's eyes were positively pleading as they stared up at her mother. Miranda noted that two sets of those whisky coloured orbs were going to be trouble as they both settled on her.

"That would be lovely."

"Excuse me ladies."

The three females turned to look at the intruding air hostess who had managed to creep up on them unnoticed. Her confidence faltered under the scrutiny.

"W-we are coming in to land."

Miranda raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"So, I'm going to have to ask you to take your original seats."

Andréa's glare sharpened.

"Please?"

The brunette cocked her head. "No."

"That's all."

As the flight attendant slowly backed away, Miranda and Andréa began buckling themselves and Charlotte in where they sat with smirks playing at their lips, and it occurred to them both that although they couldn't know what lay ahead of them, it was sure to be very interesting.


	11. Chapter 11

**Epilogue**

Nigel stood with Emily huddled in a faraway corner at the shoot. They were both agreed that the best plan of action was to situate themselves at a suitable distance from the inevitable carnage so that they would not be destroyed, whilst still being close enough to witness the entire episode.

The art director was silently frenzied.

They had been back from Paris less than a week when he had received a call from Emily that had left him partially deaf in one ear; because apparently Miranda had scheduled a shoot for the following week with 'Charlotte'. 'Charlotte'; the line that Miranda had been enquiring into for over a year in an attempt to secure their advertisement in _Runway_, that had a mysterious designer who, up until this point, had chosen to keep their designs solely for the catwalk.

Of course, that the designer was one Andréa Sachs and that her identity had been kept a secret because the woman in question was terrified of crossing paths with her former boss again was knowledge reserved for only Emily and himself; which lead him to call his friend desperately searching for an explanation.

"Nigel, I can't talk about this right now, I'm at the park with Charlie."

"Well tell my gorgeous little niece that Uncle Nigel says 'hello', but this cannot wait." Nigel let out an exasperated sigh. "What happened to hiding behind initials and choosing not to feature in magazines? This was all your idea."

"I know it was Nige, but I'm tired of it. I'm tired of-"

What ever else she was 'tired of' was cut off by a series of giggles and what sounded like barking, followed by a hushed conversation.

"Look Nigel, I promised today would be work free, okay? I'll see you at the shoot. Don't worry."

So now, uniformed and unprepared, both Nigel and Emily could only wait for the inevitable disaster. Half hidden from view they watched as their boss wandered around the shoot terrorizing her staff and waiting for the arrival of the elusive designer.

Nigel didn't even want to imagine the firework display that would undoubtedly go off once Miranda realized exactly who she was dealing with. This was bound to be catastrophic.

Both hidden employees sucked in an audible gasp as a black Mercedes pulled up behind the endless hair and make-up stations.

A blonde blur escaped from the car first and began rocketing toward the set, launching at the formidable editor and clinging like a spider monkey.

"Hello Sweetheart."

Nigel looked on as his niece whispered in the editor's ear.

"Well I missed you too."

So transfixed was he on the scene that he had entirely missed his friend approaching. When the only acknowledgement of Andy's presence by the older woman was a smile, Nigel had to silently agree with the muttered 'bloody hell' from somewhere behind him. He watched as his friend slowed on approach, now regarding the set and models before her.

"Nigel!"

Without registering the need to move the art director's legs carried him hastily toward the brunette's voice.

"Could you and Emily keep an eye on Charlie for a few minutes? I need to have a _discussion_ with Miranda's staff about why they have chosen to set up ten meters left of the best lighting."

The slight twitch of Miranda's lips and the shudder she couldn't quite suppress at the tone of Andy's voice told Nigel everything he needed to know and he decided that at the first available opportunity he would squeeze his young friend for every last detail. Until then, he would simply have to get his information from Charlie.

"Come on then beautiful; let's leave these dragons to their work."

He didn't miss the look that passed between them as they readied themselves to flail the _Runway_ minions. He felt for them; if they had thought life working for Miranda Priestly was torture, they surely wouldn't be able to survive Andy's arrival.

Thanking his lucky stars that he had been assigned to Charlie for the duration of the shoot he walked back towards Emily, who was already standing ready with an ice cream in hand; the perfect tool for bribing four year olds.


End file.
